Temptation
by Tiffasian
Summary: Inspired by the Season 4 trailer. The unspoken rule among the men in the prison was that Hershel's youngest daughter was untouchable. When Beth begins to show feelings for him, Daryl tries to keep his distance but finds it difficult to resist temptation. —Daryl/Beth.
1. volume i

**A/N (9/29/2013):** Although I'm not new to writing fanfiction, this is the first time I've ever delved into the _Walking Dead_ fandom. I never considered the Daryl/Beth pairing until I watched the Comic-Con Season 4 trailer. The scene of Beth and Daryl struck me very strongly, so I ended up hardcore shipping them together despite the age difference. I wanted to write my own version of the events leading up to that moment, which inspired this fic. This was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but right now it's looking to be three chapters total. Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy the chapter! :D

**Editor:** Huge thanks to the lovely _**Orifiel **_for being my beta reader! Please check out her fics if you're a fan of _Mass Effect_, _Fallout_, and _Dragon Age_. She's a super talented writer and artist :)

**Warning(s):** Written from Daryl's POV. Possible OOCness and spoilers. Deviation from potential Season 4 timeline.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _The Walking Dead_ or any of its characters.

— — — — —

**Temptation**

_volume i: meeting you was fate_

The unspoken rule among the men in the prison was that Hershel's youngest daughter was untouchable. However, once Rick brought the Woodbury survivors, Beth became a hot commodity among the few teenage boys who hadn't been a part of the Governor's army. Later when a few college students joined their group, one idiot seemed to have missed the memo that Beth was off limits. While the other boys had subjected themselves to a "look-but-don't-touch" restriction, Zach seemed adamant on winning the pretty blonde's favor despite the disapproval of the older males, especially those from the original group.

Zach followed Beth wherever she went, whether she was taking care of Judith, tending to the fields, or clearing the fence of walkers. His charm manifested in his flirtation, which ranged from giving her handpicked wild flowers to showing off his fighting prowess when killing walkers. He demonstrated the gift—or perhaps curse—of smooth talking whenever he tossed a compliment that brought a blush to her cheeks or a smile to her lips. But despite the flattery of his blatant affection, Beth didn't seem to return his feelings.

While Daryl usually didn't care about the teens' affairs, Beth was still a part of his immediate family whom he protected first and foremost. Although Zach had proved himself an invaluable member of the group when he accompanied him on the recent Big Spot supply run, Daryl found the former college student's advances rather irritating and unwelcome, especially since Beth seemed uncertain on how to deal with his assertiveness. Even more annoying was that Maggie found Zach's pathetic efforts to be cute; he couldn't fathom how she could find anything remotely positive about a buffoon courting her baby sister.

Daryl currently stood in the guard tower on watch, a cigarette dangling from his mouth as he focused on the perimeter of the fence. Even under the cover of darkness, he could still make out the walkers that rattled the chain-link barrier, their growling breaking the silence of the night. Over time, a buildup of the undead had begun to wander outside of their sanctuary, potentially compromising the inhabitants' safety. As he took a drag from his cigarette and pondered this persisting problem, exhaling a trail of smoke, he noticed a lone figure emerge from the entrance of the prison to sit at one of the metal tables in the courtyard. Upon closer inspection, he recognized Beth's form illuminated by the moonlight as she gazed up at the night sky.

While she remained under his watchful eye, it slightly concerned him that she was outside by herself. Still, Daryl understood the need to seek solitude, considering their current living conditions. Although the arrival of the former Woodbury residents and several other new groups had brought along a sense of a normal community, the large number of people all living under the same roof grew quite suffocating. Regardless of the surrounding danger, spending a few moments out in the open and away from the commotion of other humans had a refreshing freedom.

The thought of Beth feeling smothered within their home had never occurred to Daryl, but it made sense since her duties aside from taking care of Judith required her constant presence around other people. Add to that the fact that she had the misfortune of dealing with Zach's overbearing infatuation, and he couldn't blame her for taking her chances with the walkers just to take a breather. If his memory served him correctly, Zach had stepped up his wooing earlier in the day through a serenade in the middle of the common room during lunch, complete with back-up singers and a guitar he had picked up on a run. Poor Beth had been struck speechless out of sheer embarrassment, which Zach had probably taken as impression.

_Speak o' th' devil,_ Daryl thought wryly as he spotted a second form accompany Beth, identifying the familiar cocky swagger. When he heard their hushed voices, he found himself straining to listen. _Hell, I ain't got nothin' better ta do._

"So… how'd you like the performance today?" Zach asked as he leaned his back against the tabletop, propping his elbows on the surface. As a southern Florida native, he lacked the typical Southern drawl prevalent among most of the prison populace.

To Beth's relief, he stayed a respectable distance away from her. Shyly tucking a loose tendril behind her ear before folding her hands in her lap, she replied, "It was good. Kinda overwhelmin' gettin' that much attention tho'."

Zach apparently found her Southern belle charm endearing, evident when he chuckled at her accented answer. He didn't seem keen on maintaining the space between them as he slowly lifted his right arm and casually wrapped it around Beth's slender frame, gently tugging her towards him and eliciting a soft gasp from her. "You're totally worth the notice."

Up in the guard tower, Daryl prepared to impale the boy's offending limb with one of his bolts.

"Thank you," Beth said politely until her eyes drifted to the appendage draped across her shoulders. "Um… ya mind movin' yer arm? I'm kinda uncomfortable."

"Still playin' hard to get, huh?" Zach smirked without retracting his arm.

An exasperated sigh escaped Beth. "I 'preciate the flattery, but I ain't interested in datin' anyone."

"Didn't seem that way to me when we refereed the kids' soccer game," he countered. "I know your type of flirting—shy smiles and lowered eyelashes. Mm-hmm, my favorite kinda girl."

Judging by the appalled expression on Beth's face, Daryl called bullshit on Zach's implied expertise about women.

"I was bein' nice," she defended.

"Or that time you said I had a good voice when we took care of Judith together."

"It was jus' a compliment–"

"And then when you mentioned that I was a natural with kids during story time–"

"_Another_ compliment–"

"Dammit, Beth," Zach snapped, tightening his hold on her and moving to grip her chin with his left hand. He forced her head in his direction and glared at her, ignoring the way she grabbed his wrist in an attempt to wrench his hand away. "Can't keep stringin' a guy along–"

The sudden bolt ricocheting off the steel tabletop interrupted the tense confrontation, breaking them apart. Surprise flooded Zach's face while a relieved Beth quickly scooted away from the boy. They both looked up at the guard tower in unison, knowing the miss was intentional because Daryl always hit his target.

Said man stood with his crossbow in firing stance until he lowered it, revealing the piercing blue of his narrowed eyes. "What part o' 'no' ya don't understand, boy?" he yelled out, taking slightly sadistic pleasure in the way Zach flinched at his accusation. "She don't like ya, so leave 'er alone or I'll git yer balls next time."

Zach's face paled from pure intimidation, for he knew to never take any of Daryl's threats lightly after hearing of the time the redneck shot an arrow into a Mexican's ass. He jumped to his feet in one abrupt movement, shooting Beth one last angry glance before storming back into the prison.

Rolling his eyes, Daryl scoffed at the rather dramatic departure, his weapon completely descending to a neutral position. The kid was lucky to walk away with both arms intact. He shifted his line of sight back over the ledge of the tower and caught Beth still peering up from where she now stood by the table. While the younger Greene girl certainly didn't possess the ability to unnerve anyone with her large doe eyes, Daryl felt inclined to avert his gaze even with the vast distance between them.

Beth was the epitome of the saying, _"The eyes are the windows to the soul,"_ and he couldn't bring himself to fully meet her stare when he noticed the glimpse of gratitude and something else expressed in her blue irises. He merely nodded in acknowledgement, hoping that that action alone conveyed what words couldn't. When he saw movement in his periphery, he finally looked back, just in time to see Beth waving at him with a soft smile on her face.

She turned to head back into the prison, but when she began to walk away, he could see that she was still visibly shaken by the encounter with Zach. Times like this reminded him that the living could be as harmful as the undead. Her sister had undergone a more severe version of the event with the Governor while Glenn had been tortured by Merle. And Lori, T-Dog, and Andrea had lost their lives due to the actions of another so-called "human."

Although Daryl found Zach fairly harmless compared to people like the Governor, Beth's vulnerability was enough to spur the man into reaffirming his decision to protect his closest family.

—

The second time Daryl ever helped Beth besides protecting her from walkers involved the most awkward supply run he had ever gone on. Although the process was nothing new, attaining painkillers specifically for menstrual cramps was definitely a first. While the blonde was confined to her bed in the fetal position, he and Maggie were staking out a nearby pharmacy to find something to alleviate her pain.

"Can't ya just find 'er some Advil or somethin'?" he asked as he guarded the entrance of the small building while Maggie perused the shelves of the prescription medication stock.

"Ain't an option since all the OTC meds've been looted," she replied without sparing him a glance, trailing her index finger over the labels as she walked along. "We're lucky that Daddy knows enough 'bout medicine ta figure out what kinda prescription drugs ta get."

"We got a large supply at the prison. Ya can't just give 'er somethin' from there?"

"All o' those're opioid, morphine type o' painkillers, way too strong for somethin' like menstrual cramps. We don't need ta be knockin' 'er out." Maggie faintly smiled before continuing. "But Ibuprofen can come in prescriptions, so that's what I'm lookin' for."

"She ain't never had this problem till now."

"Yeah, well, ever since the Woodbury people came, Beth ain't been as active with the labor, 'specially now that she's takin' care o' Judith. Durin' the first few months, we took care of it with a hot water pad, but it's hit a pretty bad point now. "

Daryl didn't say anything, having returned his attention to his task as a lookout. When the clicking of Maggie's boots on the tile floor suddenly stopped, he turned back to her. "Ya find somethin'?" he asked, nodding towards the small package she currently held in her hands.

Maggie turned the packet over several times before letting out a sardonic chuckle. "Nah, just thinkin' 'bout how ironic it was that Beth was upset findin' my birth control years ago but had ta later be put on the pill 'erself."

Daryl's eyebrows shot up in astonishment. He had always viewed Beth as the more innocent of the two sisters, but this news came out of left field. "She and Jimmy were doin' it?" Bluntness was unquestionably one of his fortes.

"Oh God, no!" Maggie exclaimed, chucking the birth control at him in embarrassment, which he easily dodged. "That's what helped 'er with her cramps."

"Then why don't ya jus' get 'er a buncha birth control then?" He picked up the fallen item and offered it back to her.

She shook her head in declination before continuing to scrutinize the shelves. "Ain't really effective when ya don't know the exact time of each day. That's why condoms're so popular these days."

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, and Daryl decided he had found out more than he wanted to about Beth, Maggie, menstruation, and birth control. He chose to say nothing about the brunette's insinuation of her and Glenn's sex life, tossing the pills aside and suddenly finding the empty street outside fascinating. At last, when she found the prescription drug she needed, he didn't think they could leave fast enough. He just wanted to get back home, dump off Beth's cramp meds, and get as far away from the Greene girls as possible for the time being.

Later during dinner that night, a newly recovered Beth finally made an appearance outside of her cell, having overcome the pain. When she spotted Daryl sitting on the stairs by the entrance, she took a seat on the step below his. Oblivious to the tension that radiated from the man, she beamed up at him.

"Thank ya fer helpin' with gettin' the painkillers. Maggie thinks she freaked ya out with TMI." Her smile widened into a grin.

"Ain't that an understatement," Daryl muttered, recalling the unwanted knowledge he had learned that day. Clearing his throat and scraping the remnants of food in his bowl, he said, "Ya don't need ta thank me tho'. Ain't that big o' deal."

When Beth just continued to smile without attempting to argue with him, Daryl realized that she was one of the only people besides Carol and Rick to directly thank him for something. He knew that everyone else acknowledged what he did without having to verbally articulate it, which didn't bother him at all. But hearing it out loud once in a while reminded him that people depended on him, and all he'd wanted his entire life was for others to need him.

This time his eyes met Beth's, and he hoped she understood that he appreciated her gratitude.

—

A month had passed with no accidents until the breach in Cell Block D, which left twelve dead and everyone else on edge. Although Rick, Daryl, and several others had reinforced the fence that had nearly collapsed from the sheer number of walkers, the recent incident still had them doubting the reliability of the fortification. The prison no longer offered the safety it once had, and everyone knew that it was only a matter of time until they had to abandon their sanctuary.

The aftermath found Daryl digging graves with Rick and Tyreese under the sweltering sun. Four graves each kept them busy and quiet, especially since Karen had been among the victims. The sound of Tyreese's heartbreak resonated over his shovel hitting the ground in the form of restrained sobs. Although Daryl and Rick could empathize with the man for losing a loved one, they understood that verbal condolences wouldn't provide sufficient comfort.

As Daryl continuously scooped out dirt, he glowered at the pile of dead walkers waiting for burning not too far away from their makeshift cemetery. They served as a reminder that any sense of security was temporary, that time was always ticking for the living.

When their task was finished, Daryl immediately headed back into the prison, for the burial would take place later that evening. Knowing that Tyreese required solitude to grieve over the death of his girlfriend, he felt a pang in his heart that prompted the memory of his hand in Merle's demise when he had reanimated as a walker. At the time, with the threat of the Governor looming over their heads, Daryl's mourning for his brother had been short-lived.

Walking upstairs in Cell Block C to rest in his cell, he stumbled upon Beth and Maggie frantically searching the other ones and the ground for something. He quirked an eyebrow at their antics as he passed them to enter the miniature enclosure. "The hell're y'all doin'?"

He was instantly taken aback when Beth's head shot up in response, her big blue eyes filled with tears.

"I lost my necklace!" she wailed, sniffling as she shook her head at Maggie to confirm that the lost jewelry's whereabouts remained unknown. She stood from her crouching position and hurriedly ran downstairs to continue her search.

Maggie also drew up to her full height with a sigh before explaining the situation. "Walker snagged her necklace when the breach happened."

The flood of walkers had inconveniently extended into their cell block, resulting in a full-scale sweep of the two adjacent cell blocks to clear out any straggling undead.

Daryl snorted. "Y'all know better'n ta wear shit that a walker can grab. Makes their job easier."

An annoyed glare crossed Maggie's features. "That necklace was her sixteenth birthday present from Mom. Last thing she's got ta remember her by."

She didn't wait for Daryl to respond, also bounding down the stairs to help her sister locate the missing memento.

A twinge of guilt twisted inside him, but he quickly shrugged it off. He couldn't have known how important the necklace was to Beth, having simply assumed that wearing accessories was a practice she had retained as a teenage girl regardless of the post-apocalyptic world they lived in. Toeing off his boots, he had just plopped onto his bed, ready to take a short snooze, when something glimmered out of the corner of his eye.

Irritated by the curiosity that delayed his nap, he slid off his mattress and squatted to take a look at the thing gleaming from the ground. His fingers wrapped around the tiny object, holding it up for further inspection; he recognized the silver heart as Beth's pendant. Initially wondering how Maggie and Beth had missed it, he remedied that thought at once when he realized his appearance had probably prevented them from searching his cell. His eyes scanned the rest of the floor for the chain, but the endeavor proved unfruitful.

_"Walker snagged her necklace."_

Although it was unlikely, it was still a possibility. The tearful expression on Beth's face reminded him of the time Carol had cried over Sophia's disappearance. Painfully recalling his failure to find the little girl, Daryl pocketed the heart and yanked his boots back on with a bitter groan before returning outside towards the field where he had been digging earlier. Deliberately disregarding the freshly dug graves, he strode towards the mound of walkers. The number of corpses had him cursing his chivalry, but when he remembered his commitment to his family, he set about inspecting each one.

_Well, I'll be damned._ More than ten bodies later, he had found the chain ironically within a female walker's clutches. But when he extracted it from her grasp, he discovered that while the chain was still intact, the clasp had broken from the force of the grab.

Daryl highly doubted that a replacement chain would be easy to find. Despite the jewelry departments having stayed relatively untouched since the outbreak began a year ago, he knew enough that anything metal like sterling silver would have tarnished by now. Plus, with the recent scare, leaving the premises to even look for one was out of the question.

He re-entered the prison and headed back towards his cell where he stored his extra hunting supplies. Taking a seat and opening a container full of various types of cords, Daryl sifted through them until he pulled out a black one full of knots, the vague memory of his walker ear necklace briefly flashing in his mind. Retrieving a pair of pliers from a nearby toolbox, he detached the clasp from the chain. His adept fingers slipped the pendant onto the chain before moving on to the cord. He threaded the ends of the cord through the jump rings and knotted them, tugging each knot to test its durability.

Satisfied with his handiwork, Daryl left the compartment to find Beth. He didn't have to put in much effort; she was inside her cell, face buried in a pillow as sobs wracked her petite body. Standing at the open door, he cleared his throat, effectively halting her crying.

Beth raised her head, wiping away tears from her puffy eyes. "Y-yes?"

He held out the repaired necklace. "Lookin' fer this?"

She leaped out of her bed in shock and approached him to accept it. Gingerly cradling the trinket, she asked, "W-where'd ya find it?"

"Pendant slipped into my cell. Chain was in some walker's hand. Clasp was broken, so I fixed it, but I ain't got much ta work with."

Beth traced the junctions between the chain and the black cord with her fingertip before draping the necklace over her head and around her neck. The heart dangled lower at her chest instead of directly below her collarbone, but she didn't seem to mind since she proceeded to wrap her arms around his neck and sweetly kiss him on the cheek. She pulled back, the corners of her lips tilted upward.

Although Daryl was startled by the gesture and unused to the affection, he reveled in the feeling of being appreciated and the warmth of Beth's grateful smile.

— — — — —

**A/N:** I drew a lot of inspiration from the newly released extended trailer as well as the promotional pictures, but as mentioned earlier, I've deviated quite a bit from the canon-verse timeline planned for Season 4 and taken some creative license with Zach's characterization since he hasn't been introduced in the series yet. Since I already have the entire fic planned out, I should have Chapter 2 posted next weekend. Please review—I would love your feedback! Thank you for reading! :)


	2. volume ii

**A/N (10/5/2013):** Thank you so much to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed last chapter! I'm glad to know that people are giving this story a chance. Big shout-out to those who took the time to give me their feedback—I appreciate your thoughts! However, I'm thankful to my silent readers for their support as well :) This chapter is a little shorter than the first one since I didn't want to unnecessarily drag out any of the scenes. Also, I'm no expert on archery, so I just looked up the basics, but I apologize for any inaccurate information. Without further ado, here is Chapter 2! :D

**Editor:** Another huge thanks to the amazing _**Orifiel**_! Please check out her fics if you're a fan of _Mass Effect_, _Fallout_, and _Dragon Age_. Her writing skills are phenomenal :)

**Warning(s):** Possible OOCness and spoilers. Deviation from potential Season 4 timeline.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _The Walking Dead_ or any of its characters. I also don't own the song "Over Anticipate," which belongs to Emily Kinney.

— — — — —

**Temptation**

_volume ii: becoming your friend was a choice_

Following the breach episode, the council had taken Rick's suggestion to enforce weapons training regiments upon all the residents. With Daryl and Hershel's assistance, the former leader devised a system that rotated three age groups through four different weapon stations, which allowed one set of instructors a free day from training duties. Glenn and Sasha were assigned to relay their expertise on guns, Carol and Maggie on knives, Tyreese and Michonne on melee weapons, and Daryl rounding out the staff with bows. Knowing that ammunition could only last so long, Daryl had volunteered to impart his knowledge of archery; as a versatile hunter, he possessed the skill to handle a regular bow despite his preference for his crossbow.

That day, Daryl found himself standing behind Beth as she partook in his training for the first time. He had been walking along the line of teenagers practicing their body positions, growing less and less impressed with their efforts. However, once he reached Beth, he noticed the lack of arrows protruding from her target and decided to observe her. He stood intrigued as she aligned herself perpendicularly to her target with her feet shoulder-width apart and nocked an arrow to her bowstring. With her brow furrowed in concentration, she drew the bowstring back and released the arrow after three full breaths.

Bulls-eye.

Beth lowered her bow, a smile playing on her lips, and turned around just to see Daryl standing there with his arms crossed and an impressed smirk on his face. She blushed at the silent admiration and shyly looked down.

"You're a nat'ral, huh?" he commented, stepping closer to her so that he could better view the target from her line of sight. The arrow wasn't dead center, but it had still punctured the innermost circle. Definitely good enough.

"Mama was a bow hunter," she explained, raising her head and shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Was startin' ta teach me how ta use a bow when things went bad till she… well, y'know."

Daryl nodded, understanding the sensitivity of the subject. "Nat'ral or not, you're still better than these amateurs." Moving to assess the rest of the group's progress, he clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Keep it up, kid," he said before continuing his evaluation.

After supervising the remainder of the session and then dismissing the group for the day, Daryl approached Beth with the offer to cultivate her skill, citing that they would eventually run out of ammunition and have to rely on archery for long-range killings. Despite her surprise at the proposal, she eagerly accepted it after only a moment's hesitation. With no other assigned chores for the day, she started immediately.

Daryl positioned his body parallel to Beth's in an attempt to add more power to her drawing arm and to boost the range of her shooting. His chest against her back, he had no choice but to invade her personal space to demonstrate the efficiency of increasing her drawing strength. He couldn't help noticing how petite she was, her tiny, smooth hands under his large, callused ones and her head reaching no higher than his chin. Every breath she took pushed her closer to him, and although he tried to restrain it, his heart rate increased in response to the proximity.

"Ya ready?" he asked quietly.

"Mm-hmm." Beth's ponytail tickled his nose when her head bobbed in affirmation.

"Just say when, an' I'll let go."

When a few beats passed, Daryl was certain she could feel the telltale pounding of his heart the longer he stayed pressed to her, and he wondered if she was experiencing the same inner distress since she displayed no outward indication of uneasiness. To his relief, she finally exhaled and whispered, "Okay."

They released the bowstring simultaneously and watched the arrow swiftly sail through the air before hitting its target in the center.

Daryl promptly dropped his arms and stepped away from Beth as if touching her had scalded him. He placed his hands on his hips. "That's how ya need ta be firin' yer arrows. We're gonna hafta work on yer arm strength."

After her bow's descent, Beth fanned herself. "Alrighty, but can we take a break? It's hot out here, and I'm sweatin'." As if on cue, a bead of sweat dripped from her brow.

Automatically reaching behind him, Daryl retrieved the red handkerchief that always dangled from his back pocket and handed it to her. "That's 'nough fer t'day. Don't need ya passin' out in the heat."

"Thanks," Beth said, accepting the offered item and dabbing at the perspiration that lined her face. Tendrils of hair had escaped her ponytail during the physical activities of the entire afternoon. "I'll give this back ta ya after I wash it."

While Daryl always honored Anna Turner's memory by keeping the memento close, he owned enough handkerchiefs that would compensate for the loss. "Nah, keep it. I don't need it." Without thinking, he reached out and placed a hand on Beth's head, tousling the loose hair that now framed her face. "Ya did good t'day, girl."

Beth ducked under his touch when her hair flew into her eyes and waved his hand away, earning an amused grin from him. "Thanks," she said with her own smile as she straightened the flyaways as best as she could. "When can we train again?"

"When I come up with some kinda lesson plan fer ya and work 'round yer schedule," Daryl replied. Smirking, he added, "And ya better be prepared."

A few days later when Beth attended her next individual lesson with the red handkerchief tied around her head as a headband, an expression of determination on her face, Daryl felt a sense of pride at seeing the girl who was going to be his protégé.

—

On Beth's eighteenth birthday several weeks later, Daryl took first watch for the night. Although he had wished her well and partaken temporarily in the celebration, he understood the importance of maintaining their guard and volunteered to step out from the festivities to assume that responsibility. Below him, Michonne walked the perimeter of the fence as a secondary guard, her gait assured and fearless despite the potential danger.

Footsteps resounded behind him, and he turned around to see Beth carefully bounding up the steps. Leaving her golden hair loose for the day, she created an appealing picture wearing a white sundress, a denim jacket, and boots. While any other time such an outfit would be impractical, she deserved to look cute after over a year of dressing in jeans and whatever shirt was appropriate for the weather.

"Whattaya doin' up here?" he asked, lowering his crossbow from his shoulder to rest on the ground when she reached the top floor of the tower.

"I need ta breathe," she replied, settling next to him at the ledge overlooking the prison field. "Everyone's gettin' drunk down there."

Daryl's eyes narrowed. "Zach makin' any moves on ya? I was serious when I said I'd git his balls next time."

Beth vigorously shook her head. "No, no. He's been leavin' me alone. I just needed ta get away. Kinda overwhelmin' with everyone congratulin' me on finally becomin' a woman. The alcohol makes it ten times worse."

Although Daryl could admit that Beth was pretty, he still considered her a kid, especially now that he had taken her under his wing. The man had grown fond of the girl with her hard work, amusing antics, and newfound assertiveness.

Beth grinned before leaning forward against the ledge and letting out a long sigh, drawing a curious look from the man beside her. Catching his eye, she said, "I still don't really feel like an adult."

"Ya don't, huh?" Well, she probably wouldn't appreciate what he thought then. "Why's that?"

Her cheeks puffed out in frustration before she pouted and answered in a sulking tone, "Everyone still babies me."

He shrugged, slinging his crossbow back over his shoulder. "Ain't such a bad thing these days."

"Yeah, but I wish I could do more fer our family, y'know?" She pursed her lips in contemplation, and Daryl couldn't help discerning how young she looked in that moment.

"Ya don't need ta be a fighter ta be useful," he said, propping an elbow on the ledge to support his body weight as he adjusted himself. "Ya make this prison into a home. Housekeepin', singin', babysittin' all 'em Woodbury brats."

"Thanks." A smile played on her lips, but it quickly faded as she went on. "I know those things're important, but I feel like I should be able ta fight ta make my place in the world worthwhile. Survival o' the fittest an' all that. That's why I wanted ta train with ya."

Even though Daryl wasn't quite the consoling figure, he felt compelled to reassure Beth that her presence was a necessity in their lives. He knew what it was like to feel unneeded, and he would be damned if he allowed her of all people to feel that way, too. Ruffling her hair, a familial and affectionate gesture that had become habitual whenever she met his expectations during her training, he said, "I don't say this often, but I'm proud o' ya, girl. Ya come a long way."

When she beamed brightly at him as she combed through her tangled locks, accomplishment filled him for his successful attempt at comfort. She directed her gaze back to the darkness, Daryl following suit, and a companionate silence settled for a while before she spoke again.

"Was yer eighteenth birthday this big o' deal?" she inquired in a meek manner, knowing that he had undergone a rough childhood but unsure if he had also endured such an ordeal during his young adulthood.

Without looking at her, he answered, "None o' my birthdays were ever a big deal."

"Aww," Beth remarked before perking up. "Don't worry, we'll make yer next one good. Y'all made mine special."

Daryl chuckled at her enthusiasm. "My birthday don't matter no more now that I'm an old man." Acknowledging his age after noting Beth's youth made him feel less invincible than he usually did in this world.

Beth playfully bumped his shoulder with hers. "Oh, please! Ya got the energy o' someone my age."

"I ain't that much older than ya."

"Oh? How old're ya, then?"

"Age is jus' a number. I'm keepin' it a secret."

"Yeah, yeah," she teased, removing her arms from the ledge.

Movement caught the corner of his eye, and Daryl noticed her absentmindedly rubbing the scar on her wrist. "Ya ever regret it?" He nodded towards her hands.

Beth blinked in confusion before looking down. Realizing that she had been tracing the evidence of her suicide attempt, she responded in a soft voice, "Only the thought o' leavin' Daddy and Maggie, but not the chance ta decide whether or not ta live."

Daryl remained quiet as she continued.

"I'm thankful I decided ta live 'cause even tho' life ain't perfect, I'm with all the people I love—all o' ya who made my eighteenth birthday somethin' special when there was a time I didn't think I'd make it this far."

"We're lucky ta have survived this long."

"That's 'cause we've been tryin' ta _live_, not jus' survive." Her eyes showed a wisdom beyond her years that seemed to resonate within all females, as Daryl had seen that same feminine insight exhibited in Carol from time to time.

"You're wise fer yer age, kiddo," he complimented, patting her head. "Ain't easy ta be so optimistic after almost killin' yerself."

"Thanks, but ya don't gotta take it out on my hair," Beth laughed, running her fingers through her tresses after he withdrew his hand. When her giggles subsided, she gently said, "Speakin' o' wounds… I know 'bout yer back." The openness that had developed between them over the past few weeks had emboldened her. "Ya wanna talk 'bout it?"

Panic suddenly flooded Daryl's system at the mention of his scars, and he straightened from his leaning position into one of protection. In a fierce tone, he muttered, "Don't wanna talk 'bout that shit. Jus' reminders of how weak I was back then."

Unfazed by his defensiveness, Beth instead declared, "Scars ain't always a sign o' weakness. They also mean we were strong enough ta survive." She glanced down at the white line that stretched across her pulse.

Daryl continued to avoid her stare until a light hand touched his arm and seized his awareness. His eyes met Beth's, and the familiar look he had seen that fateful night presented itself again. The intensity of her blue irises nearly pierced through his defenses, and he swallowed thickly when her other hand subconsciously grasped the pendant resting at her bosom.

The honorable part of him stopped that train of thought as he tore his gaze away and cleared his throat. "Ya should get back down there. Make sure none o' them do nothin' too stupid."

Subtle disappointment briefly crossed Beth's features as she retracted her arm and nodded. Fixing her hair, a girlish and timid mannerism of self-consciousness, she flashed him one last smile before heading downstairs back to her party.

Something beneath the warmth in her eyes ran deeper than mere affection, and Daryl was afraid to find out what it was.

—

After another afternoon spent cutting down the mass of walkers outside the fence, Daryl walked towards the shower room in anticipation of washing away the sweat and blood covering his body. His drenched shirt clung to his torso, and he yanked it off to escape the discomfort. Despite the manageable number, the walkers posed a threat to their defenses since they had nearly toppled the fence. Times like this made him thankful for the addition of the Woodbury residents, who had assisted in reinforcing the barrier while killing the undead.

The impending risk continued to grow, and he realized that eventually they would have to find another safe haven. Rick insisted on staying though, that they needed to keep the place going since they had invested so much effort into making it their home for the past eight or so months. While Daryl could understand the reluctance in leaving the prison, their safety remained their priority. If keeping out of harm's way meant leaving, then it was a sacrifice they would have to make.

_"Could you fall in love with me… ohh…"_

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear the soft singing until he opened the door to the shower room and instantly halted at the scene before him, his mouth going dry.

_"Love is such a mind-blowing mystery…"_

Beth stood under the shower spray, her eyes closed and her head tilted back to rinse out her hair. She continued to sing, the newly formed muscles in her upper arms flexing as her fingers massaged her scalp and ran through her wet strands. Water trickled down her bare flesh, making Daryl realize for the first time that the girl was definitely not a kid. While she may not have been as developed as some of the other females in the prison, she certainly bore a figure of womanhood rather than girlhood.

_"I know that you're much older… and you've had many lovers… but there's no place I'd rather be than underneath the covers… next to you… next to you…"_

"Oh shit," Daryl cursed, not entirely sure whether he was reacting to the sight or to the suggestive lyrics.

His sudden voice had Beth's eyes snapping open. Startled, she looked to the doorway to see Daryl standing there shirtless like a deer caught in headlights. Time seemed to freeze for a moment until the reality of the situation sunk in. Gasping and concealing her breasts, Beth whimpered, "Oh my God."

"S-sorry," Daryl stuttered before leaving, embarrassed that he had not only seen the girl naked, but had actually been entranced by her and the song. Although he had encountered similar circumstances with some of the other women, he couldn't understand why she in particular had captured his attention

When Beth emerged from the shower later, Daryl avoided eye contact as he brushed past her to take his turn. He could tell that she wanted to forget the incident as well, her head bowed as they passed each other without a word. Images of her uncovered body surfaced in his mind, but he suppressed them as the shower plummeted over his body.

Daryl couldn't deny that Beth was a woman, and that recognition frightened him as much as her revealing blue eyes did.

— — — — —

**A/N:** I know the training and birthday scenarios are common tropes for this pairing, but I wanted to do my own spin on them for this story. For those of you who don't know, Anna Turner is a character in _The Walking Dead: Survival Instinct_ game who gave the handkerchief to Daryl. Also, Emily Kinney's song "Over Anticipate" practically sums up what a romantic relationship between Daryl and Beth could be like, so please check it out, especially since I skipped some lines just to show the relevant lyrics ;) One last chapter to go, which I should have posted before Season 4 premieres next weekend :D Thank you for reading, and please review! :)


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